


The Fourth Wall: FC Edition

by kooili



Series: Meta [4]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Bernie Lives, Crack, F/F, Meta, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 17:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19834633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooili/pseuds/kooili
Summary: Bernie just couldn’t leave it alone and now the powers that be are out to get her. But she’s smarter than them...Welcome to The Fourth Wall: Fuck Canon edition.





	The Fourth Wall: FC Edition

**Author's Note:**

> You may have heard some distressing rumours about what Holby City is planning to do to our favourite Big Macho Army Medic. Luckily, she has other ideas, and so do we.

“Berenice bloody Wolfe!”

A stray strand from an unruly fringe fell across her face as Bernie jerked her face up from the screen of her laptop. It was perched precariously on the arm of the sofa and her sudden movement nearly toppled over the coffee sitting next to it. It was a good thing she still had impeccable reflexes from her Army training, she thought, reaching out to steady the mug. 

Except she forgot that it was piping hot.

She yelped and pulled her hand away and, in the process, knocked the laptop onto the floor. It landed face up, screen open and directly below the mug which was now slipping off the armrest. Her eyes widened with horror at the inevitable meeting of liquid and keyboard before slender fingers appeared and plucked disaster away by the fragile ceramic handle. 

“Thanks,” Bernie mumbled, embarrassed, looking up at her wife.

Serena raised an eyebrow as she placed the mug on the coffee table. “Razor sharp reflexes as always, I see.”

“Oi,” Bernie grumbled and straightened herself up in the armchair. “I wouldn’t have needed them if you hadn’t startled me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have had to if you’d heard me the first three times I called out,” Serena countered. “I was beginning to think you were ignoring me.”

Bernie looked suitably offended. “Perhaps I was outside. Putting out the bin.”

“Putting out the bin,” Serena repeated in a flat tone as she looked her wife up and down. “Not likely, since you’re not in your bathrobe and fluffy pink slippers.” 

Bernie considered her argument for a moment before conceding with a resigned nod. “I suppose not. Wouldn’t want to break the rules and be put on time out again. Remember Nairobi?”

They shared a look, both wincing simultaneously. 

“Vividly,” Serena spoke first. “And that’s why we agreed that you should keep a low profile. Or so I thought.”

Bernie nodded. “Yes, and that’s what I’ve been doing.”

“Are you sure, darling?” 

Bernie furrowed her brow. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

There was an audible sigh as Serena lifted a large envelope she had been holding in her other hand.

“This.”

Bernie’s curiosity was piqued and she waited with bated breath for Serena to continue. Long seconds passed but her wife said nothing, standing completely still in absolute silence.

“Serena…” Bernie began to speak only to be hushed by a raised hand. She watched as fingers folded down one at a time counting down to a fist before the room fell into darkness. 

Ah yes, Bernie thought, as the lights came on again and they were now seated at the kitchen table, the contents of the envelope spread across its wooden surface. She’d nearly forgotten all about the dinkus break. 

“So,” Serena said, continuing the conversation from before. “Care to explain this, love of my life?”

Bernie looked at the printed sheets in front of her and smiled. “It’s the latest newsletter from the ladies. I wonder who won the Trope of the Month competition... ” She picked it up and started scanning the page. 

“You should be more interested in the travel section,” Serena said drily. “It might be more relevant to our interests considering the circumstances.” She pushed the rest of the contents towards Bernie.

“It’s bed-sharing frenemies by two votes,” Bernie exclaimed before glancing at the other sheet. This one was a letter printed in an ominous looking font with sections highlighted in red. The look on her face gradually transformed from confusion to surprise as she read.

“I don’t understand why…” she started saying when Serena cut her off with an exasperated sigh. 

“It was just a matter of time. I told you that they’d do something drastic if you kept interacting with W.O.L.F.”

Bernie shrugged. “I didn’t think they’d clock on it was me. Besides,” she added defensively, “I did turn it down when they offered to make me honorary president for life.”

Serena jabbed a finger at a section on the letter in bold crimson. “Looks like your friends have upset the writers and they are sending you off script.”

“Off script? You mean like Kiev or Sudan?” Bernie looked at Serena curiously.

Serena shook her head. “No, darling. You’ve been given early retirement and a permanent transfer to a different show.”

Bernie’s eyes landed on the final paragraph of the letter. Her eyes widened as she read and reread the words. “I suppose it’ll be a nice change of scenery,” she finally said, folding the sheet in half.

Serena sat back in her chair and sighed. “For you, yes. What about me? I don’t fancy going in when they’re writing you out. Word is that they’ve started playing Cards Against Humanity to get new plot ideas.”

Her response was greeted by loud goose-like laughter. “Don’t worry, darling,” Bernie said, patting her hand. “I’ll get the ladies to help you out and we can move to the new location together. I hear there’s a stately home in Halifax that's quite a nice place for a couple of queer ladies to settle down...”


End file.
